Temple Raid!
Written by Frozen Badger.
Inspired by the Iron Badger illustration of the same name.
Copyright © 2005 by Frozen Badger, all rights reserved. Reproduction and distribution of this work by any means without the expressed written permission of the author, or hotlinking from another website without the expressed written permission of the author and BondoFox, is expressly forbidden. Similarity to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
This story contains violence, slavery, bondage and discipline, and instances of graphic sex - some of which is of a non-consensual and violent. If material of this nature offends you, please don’t read it.
Chapter One
Night was already falling as the three ships, hulls black with pitch, came ashore in the small cove. They had turned to point their sterns to the beach and the rowers had reversed their positions on the benches. At the rhythmic call of the rowing masters, on each ship twenty pairs of oars rose and fell in unison as the vessels backed towards the sloping, sandy beach.
In the stern of the lead ship stood a young Lion. He was tall and well muscled as were all of his breed, his handsome, green-eyed face framed by the red hair and beard of the mane into which he had only recently come. His broad shoulders easily bore the weight of his armor of overlapping bronze scales. The sleeveless corselet ended at his waist except for a short flap in front that extended lower to protect his groin. On his head he wore a bronze helmet, its scarlet horsetail hanging down his shoulders from the tall metal crest while in front a pair of horns curved out and upwards over his brows. Both horns and crest were gilded in gold to mark him out as the leader. Bronze vambraces on his forearms and greaves on his lower legs completed his armor. In one hand he held a powerful composite bow while a quiver of arrows hung ready at the sternpost. From his right shoulder a baldric was slung across his chest to support a bronze, leaf-bladed sword in its gold chased, leather-and-wood scabbard at his left side.
Pwymarru did not really anticipate trouble. Pirates would not be expected at this time of year. It was still early for sailing with the weather chancy and storms frequent. Consequently, a watch would not be kept for marauders from the sea. However, prudence dictated they be prepared for trouble. This cove was ideal for their purposes. It was small, isolated and without fresh water, although there was a source nearby. There was nothing to draw anyone of this land to it, which made it a perfect hiding place. At the same time it was close to their goal. A quick raid followed by a fast march and they would be gone before effective pursuit could be mounted. Aye, there were risks, but the plunder they sought was worth far greater risks.
There was a slight jar as the stern ran onto the beach. Pwymarru jumped ashore. Moments later others followed, from his ship and the other two as they grounded. He was joined by the other captains. Tenados was a black-haired, green-eyed Leopard a year his junior, who had gotten his position by means of his noble blood and by being the Lion’s boon companion since childhood. He was also a capable warrior and leader and deserved his position. Osric on the other hand was an Aurochs Bull in late middle age who by dent of long and exemplary service had risen through the ranks to his present one of commander of a hundred spears, or as now, captain of a ship. They were armored identically to their leader in bronze, as were the half-dozen noble warriors from each ship. The common warriors made do with linen or leather corselets and simple bronze caps with a short pair of horns at the sides. For weapons each bore a javelin, a spear and a dagger. The better-equipped ones added an ax or a mace.
“Osric, your crew will remain here to guard the ships,” Pwymarru informed him.
The Bull nodded. “I thought as much, Prince. This raid is a chance for you and Lord Tenados to prove yourselves. If I go past here, there will be those who whisper any success is my doing. I’ve already told off sentries.” In the gathering darkness figures could just be made out scrambling up the hillside to take up their watch.
“Tenados, have our crews eat and ready themselves, then lie down to sleep until moonrise. We’ll need that much light to see our way.”
“Aye, Pwymarru.” By virtue of his long companionship, the Leopard was allowed to address his prince by name. It would be a different matter should the Lion become a king.
The hundred males of the actual raiding party were on the march long before midnight. Helmets and shields had been left behind. They were here to raid, not fight a pitched battle, and the weight would slow them while providing little benefit in return. Leather straps had been bound around their heads to keep hair out of eyes. Many of the raiders were members of species that saw well at night, so the moon’s light proved more than adequate to illuminate their way. However, only a few of them including their prince and his comrade had been where they were going and as a result progress was slow. Not to worry — more than enough time remained this night to reach their goal.
A scout a short distance ahead of them saw it first. Topping a rise, he stopped and crouched down. Pwymarru signaled a halt and with Tenados continued on to the scout. The three peered into the broad and shallow valley on the other side of the rise. A small cluster of buildings could be made out below, enclosed by a wall. The largest was a temple and the others storehouses and the residences of the priestesses, servants and temple guards. For most of the year the activities taking place at the temple were the routine ones of prayer and tending the goddess’s statue and house. Come morning that would change and that was what had drawn them here.
“I’ll take my crew and hide in that grove there,” Pwymarru said, pointing out a stand of trees. He pointed out two other places. “Tenados, keep thirty of your crew with you there and send the other twenty there. Wait for me to initiate the attack.”
There was no need for more detailed instructions. Before ever the ships had sailed all had been informed of the plan and given the lay of the land by those who had seen it.
“Fortune attend you, Pwymarru, and may you catch a beautiful one.”
“I already know the one I wish. Fortune attend you as well.”
The two young males clasped hands to forearms in the manner of warriors. Then the Leopard was gone, leading his males to their positions. Pwymarru spent another minute or so studying the land below before he returned to his crew and led them towards the grove. There were some hours yet remaining until it would be time to strike. He posted sentries and told off their reliefs, telling the remainder to maintain silence and get some rest. In the manner of a cat, he was able to lie down and fall asleep almost at once, not to be awakened until first light filled the sky.
* * *
“Princess. Princess, dawn is breaking and ‘tis time you arose.”
“I’m awake, Ylla,” came the sleepy reply.
Tamaris sat up in bed. The sheet that had covered her fell to her waist, revealing her full, well formed breasts with their white fur and pink caps. With the resiliency of youth, they stood proudly from her chest. She yawned and stretched, lifting and pushing out those lovely mounds.
The elderly Ewe slave who had been her nurse when she was young and now oversaw her maids smiled. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, Mistress. Your breasts will be able to provide much milk for your children. That is if your husband can leave off sucking on them long enough for you to feed your babies!” she added with a laugh.
The Gazelle threw back the sheet and rose from her bed. She was a tall girl with a lovely face accented by a pair of dark brown bands running from the tip of her nose along her muzzle under her green eyes and up to her hairline. Glossy dark brown hair fell to her waist. Long, shapely legs and a curvaceous rump completed a figure with which no male would find fault.
“Hmmph! Any husband I have will have to suck on my tits after the babies are fed! Milk is not for husbands!”
“You can always wiggle your ass at him, Mistress. That should distract him from your tits!” laughed a girl. A trio of slave girls, as naked as their mistress, stood in the room, ready to attend her. The other two giggled.
“Do you really think so?” Tamaris asked, pleased.
“Aye, Mistress,” Ylla assured her. “If anything can distract a husband from your tits, ‘tis your ass.”
The Ewe gestured to one of the girls, who fetched a mirror of highly polished bronze a cubit square. The Hare knelt down and held the mirror so her mistress could gaze at her backside. Tamaris stared at her rear a moment. It appeared comely enough, round and taut and good sized. Still, even the best of mirrors provided some distortion.
“You’re certain my ass is all right?”
“Aye, Mistress,” Ylla said for the hundredth or so time. “ ‘Tis quite shapely and just enough larger than most to catch a male’s eye, but not so large as to be considered fat. Now ‘tis high time we made you ready. You have to lead the festivities at the goddess Shematti’s temple today. You are, after all, her high priestess!”
Preparations had already been made in Tamaris’s bathing chamber next to her bedchamber. Time was too short this day for the long soak in warm water she so enjoyed. Rather than the sunken tub being filled with water, several buckets were set next to it. The princess stepped down into the tub and a pair of her maids joined her, one in front and the other behind. Under Ylla’s direction they bathed her. The girls dipped large, soft sponges into a bucket of soapy water and ran them over their mistress, working up a lather. The Hare bathing her front lingered over her breasts. It was quite pleasant to have the soft material rubbing her tits and especially her sensitive nipples. The girls knelt down to wash her lower regions. This time the Hare’s sponge rubbed her pubic area. The fur there was sparse, short and thin, so her nether lips and the pink slit between them were visible. She parted her legs slightly and the sponge rubbed between them and along her vulva. She felt herself getting just a little excited. She had slept alone last night.
Ylla slept on a small bed within her bedroom while her maids slept on mats on the floor in her antechamber. That is, if they weren’t sleeping in someone else’s bed. Often times that bed was hers. It took a lot of females to staff a wealthy household with its need for attendants and those to do the washing, cooking, cleaning and other domestic chores. In any large household the females outnumbered the males by several times. If the guards were discounted, they outnumbered them even more in a palace with its requirement for still more servants and workers as well as dancers, musicians and other entertainers. With males scarce it was only natural for the females to turn to one another. For royal and noble girls it was a given. It was thought they were less likely to lose their virginity before marriage if they had other girls to satisfy their natural longings, thus their maids were also their lovers.
Tamaris looked down at the Hare who looked up at her, smiled provocatively and licked the pink tip of her nose. The girl had a particularly skilled tongue. “Ylla, is there not just a little time? I long to feel Suli’s tongue inside my cunt!” she pleaded.
Ylla considered it. There was a little time and an orgasm would release some of the physical and emotional tension the princess was feeling. That would help relax her and enable her to better play her part today.
“See to our mistress’s pleasure,” she directed the Hare. “And do it quickly; there’s no time for mutual gratification. This is for our mistress alone.”
“Thank you, Ylla!”
The Hare replaced the sponge with her face. Sticking out her tongue, she ran it up and down the Gazelle’s slit a few times. Tamaris never considered that the girl had to taste the awful flavor of soap by doing so. Then the Hare concentrated on licking her clit, stimulating the little pleasure nubbin and bringing it erect. Tamaris’s eyes went shut and her mouth opened as she uttered little sounds of joy. Her large tits heaved with her panting and her legs trembled as she found it necessary to rest a hand on the girl’s head. The Ewe stepped down into the tub, reached out and with knowing fingers stroked and fondled swelling nipples. Meanwhile, the girl kneeling behind the princess continued bathing her as if nothing else were going on. This was far from the first time they had pleasured their mistress in the bath and more than once she had been the one using her tongue as another bathed her. She washed the Gazelle’s buttocks and the back of her legs, then reached between the legs to wash their insides and around to what she could reach of their front. Bending down, she bathed her feet.
A tongue slid inside Tamaris’s cunt and proceeded to lick its interior. Suli enjoyed the taste of the other girl. She pressed her face into the Gazelle’s vulva and stuck her tongue inside as deep as it would go. She wiggled it around and thrust it up and down. Tamaris loved the feel of the clever tongue inside her. Her sounds grew louder and more urgent. Her hand gripped the slave girl’s hair as she squirmed, grinding her cunt into her face. The fingers on her nipples stroked them quickly and skillfully. The princess suddenly cried out. Her juices poured out of her, wetting the fur on her thighs and the Hare’s face. Suli drank the savory juices and licked and licked. When her mistress’s orgasm died away, she pulled her tongue out and gave her cunt a kiss.
Tamaris spared no thought for the Hare’s frustrated desire. Slaves lived to serve and it was her pleasure that was being served. Suli would have to wait until another time for an orgasm. Her maid used the sponge to wash the princess’s vulva and thighs before using it to bathe her own face.
“Enough,” the Ewe said. “ ‘Tis time we finish here and dress our mistress.”
The old nurse and the maids got out of the tub. Ylla picked up a bucket. Tamaris regarded it apprehensively. “That’s not—“ was all she had time to say before its contents were splashed upon her, striking her in the region of her chest and shoulders to run down her front side.
“Yaaaaaaaaaa!” she yelled. “That’s cold! Ylla, you know I hate it when it’s cold!”
Her old nurse picked up another bucket. “Turn around.”
The princess probably would not have obeyed for anyone else. She turned around. Prepared for the shock, her yell wasn’t quite as loud this time.
She stepped from the bath. Large, thick towels were produced and she was vigorously rubbed down. Combs and brushes were next, smoothing her fur and combing out her hair. They dressed her in a short sleeved, knee-length tunic of the finest linen, bleached white and never worn before this day, drawing her tail through the slit in back. The fabric was so sheer that silhouetted by a light her figure would show beneath it, even to her nipples and the plump little bulge at the juncture of her legs. It took considerable skill to weave cloth so fine. They followed the tunic with a long skirt heavy with embroidery of colored threads, again drew her tail through the slit for it, wrapped the skirt about her and tucked the its loose end into its band. A girdle a hand span wide and decorated with gold and lapis lazuli laced snugly around her waist held the skirt in place. A sleeveless vest heavy with more embroidery went on her torso. They fastened its lapis lazuli buttons cover her breasts to just above their ends. Jewelry was added. A spiral of gold was wound above each elbow, a thick gold hoop ring went into each ear and a broad collar of small gold plates inlaid with jade was fastened around her neck. Her short horns already sported gold inlaid into their front surfaces. Growth thus inhibited there while their after part had grown naturally had resulted in her horns taking on a graceful and highly desirable slight forward curve. Lastly, her servants placed leather sandals dyed scarlet on her feet and secured the straps.
“There!” Ylla announced. “You will be the prettiest high priestess ever to preside over the Festival of Shematti!”
Tamaris was pleased to hear that, despite knowing that her old nurse was hardly unbiased in her views. The Hare slipped away to ready herself for her part in the festival as the third of her maids returned bearing a tray holding a small loaf of bread and an alabaster goblet of watered wine.
“Hurry and break your fast, Mistress. The other girls will be waiting for you,” Ylla reminded her.
The other girls would wait as long as they must for their princess, the priestess who would lead them to Shematti’s temple and in the rites. However, it would not do to keep the goddess waiting! She ate the bread hurriedly and washed it down with the wine.
Outside in the palace courtyard more than a score of young females prime in their pulchritude were waiting for her. All of the city’s girls of good family who were of age and unmarried were gathered for the festival. Some carried silver sistrums they would shake and rattle while the rest had flutes they would play. All were dressed similar to their princess, although their jewelry was not so rich and the embroidery on their skirts and vests not so heavy or brilliant with color. Behind them were palace slave girls in identical tunics sans the over garments so that their figures could be seen beneath the thin cloth. They were the ones who led the animals that would be sacrificed and the donkeys laden with other offerings: gold, silver, ivory, incense and lapis lazuli and foodstuffs, wine, oil and cloth for the goddess’s servants. At the rear were a half score of palace guards to act as escorts. No more were necessary. Her father’s chariots and soldiery made the region about his capital city safe from bandits for a day’s march and they would reach the temple before midmorning. As for pirates, it was too early in the season for safe sailing. Besides, pirates raided costal regions and they were traveling inland.
A Fennec came over to Tamaris. She was shorter and more slender of figure, although her curves left nothing to be desired. Her light brown hair framed a pretty face with blue eyes. Her gold collar was inlaid with carnelian and her girdle decorated with gold and lapis lazuli. All of the girls of good family sported the blue stone to one degree or another. Azurra was famous for the lapis lazuli mines that were its principle source of wealth and its wellborn females wore quantities of it. Born a fortnight before her and daughter of a high palace official, Lorasin had been her friend since earliest childhood and sometimes more. It was not just with her maids that she had shared love.
Lorasin handed her a sistrum. “We’re ready whenever you’re ready to lead us, Tamaris.”
The princess glanced at a certain window on the second floor of the palace’s main building. The window remained empty. That was not surprising. While the Festival of Shematti was an important one, it was one whose celebrants were female. Her father would have important affairs of state to which he must attend. Still, it would have been nice if he could have taken the trouble to watch his eldest daughter on her day of glory. This was her first time as high priestess of Shematti, a role she would continue to play until she married. The festivities were almost as important as those led by the king to ensure their land flourished in the coming year. It was her responsibility to see that they went well.
Tamaris raised her sistrum over her head and shook it. Its tiny silver cymbals clashed together, their notes sounding in the air. In response the other girls shook their sistrums or blew upon their flutes. She led the singing, dancing and playing girls from the palace and into the city streets. The populace had turned out to watch the procession. Cheering, they threw twists of new grass, boughs of young leaves and early flowers onto the mud bricks of the streets. Many shouted praise of the beauty of the processioners, especially young males.
The girls continued their singing, dancing and playing until they had left the city. No one could keep it up all the way to Shematti’s temple. When they drew near to it, they would resume.
“ ‘Tis gone well so far,” Lorasin remarked from her place just behind Tamaris.
The Gazelle turned her head back. “There is still the ceremony at the temple to get through.”
“Everyone knows her part, just as you know yours. It will be fine and our land will flourish this year. And it will be thanks to you.”
“To all of us.”
“Aye, but especially to you.”
It was a goodly hike to the temple, but not excessive for young and healthy girls. There was much chatter and laughter as she lead the procession on to it. At last they could see it ahead of them. Once more Tamaris raised her sistrum over her head and shook it. Once more the girls took up their singing and playing as they danced towards the temple.
* * *
The pirates in their hiding places had patiently kept quite and practically motionless since dawn. For their part, the temple complex’s residents had been busy since they had risen preparing for the festival and the arrival of the procession from the city. It was not to be wondered at that none of them ventured from the vicinity of the buildings to discover the waiting marauders. Even the children had their tasks and did not wander this day as children were wont to do.
Pwymarru knew it was too early to count the foray a success. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling satisfied. It was he who had conceived the idea for the raid and with his mother’s aid had convinced his father to sanction it and allow him to recruit the males to carry it off. His father had gone so far as to bless the enterprise by putting up one of the ships, his mother supplying the second and a consortium of nobles the third. It was also he who had decided how to position his forces. So far all was going according to plan. Should it continue thus, the raid would be a great success and he would gain much honor as well as rich booty.
The warrior stationed furthest from the complex signaled. Soon all could see the procession appear. The girls began singing and dancing their way towards the temple, playing their instruments. Some of the waiting pirates were young and some were getting on in years. All had seen battle before and despite their eagerness held themselves in check, remaining unseen. The temple’s residents came to greet the procession, lining both sides of the path leading to the gate. Even the guards were there with nary a one upon the wall. There was a short delay as the groups met and matters were sorted out.
The resident priestesses entered to take their places upon the temple’s portico or on the flagstones at its foot, ready to welcome the procession and its offerings to Shematti’s house. The Gazelle in the lead shook her sistrum and the procession started through the gate. Behind the slave girls leading the animals destined for sacrifice and donkeys bearing offerings would follow the temple’s female servants and the children.
Palace and temple guards and the handful of male servants and older male children would remain outside; adult males did not enter the complex during the festival. They paid no attention to their surroundings, instead exchanging gossip and ribald comments regarding the girls, especially the slaves in their tunics that covered without concealing. Since males did not partake in the festival, they had little real respect for it.
In the woods all eyes were on Pwymarru. The young Lion waited until most of the procession had passed through the gate where they would be trapped within the complex. The first of the animals were being led through and confusion would be at its greatest. He stood, putting an arrow on the string of his powerful bow. His crew rose to their feet, the other noble warriors readying their bows.
“HHHRRRRRRRRR!” he called and loosed his arrow. An instant later more bows twanged. The arrows struck amongst the unsuspecting guards who had been remiss in their duty. Before they could comprehend what was happening, more arrows were on the way. Tenados and his thirty leaped to their feet and added their arrows. The remaining twenty pirates stood. They were too far for arrows from them to take effect. They had been positioned to prevent any caught in the trap from escaping.
Pandemonium erupted at the entrance to the complex. Females young and old and in-between and children screamed in terror. Confused and panicked animals added their frightened bawls and tugged at their ropes. Those whose leads were let go were as likely to mill about in further confusion as they were to try and run through the gate or flee. The same confusion befuddled others. The temple’s residents tried to force their way through the animals and the gate. Some of the girls from the procession joined them. Others, including some already inside, tried to flee back towards the city which was the refuge familiar to them. The entrance to the gate became jammed with a panicked mob whose panic grew only greater when they could not get through in the direction they desired.
Fast as he could, Pwymarru snatched four more arrows from where he had stuck them in the ground so he wouldn’t have to bother drawing them from a quiver and sent them on their way. He was certain one of his arrows had slain a guard outright while another pierced the leg of a second. Those were good results for such rapid shooting at a moderate distance. Other guards had gone down with arrows piercing them, some to writhe and scream on the ground, others to lie still. Most remained on their feet. To their credit, they were recovering from their surprise and beginning to rally. That had to be prevented. The outcome was never in doubt, but enemies in good order would sell their lives more dearly. They must also strike while panic and confusion were at their height.
Pwymarru dropped his bow, drew his sword and roaring a leonine battle cry, charged. His crew followed a pace or two behind while Tenados’s crew in its twin parts rushed forward as well. When the attackers were close enough there was an exchange of javelins with far fewer coming their way. More warriors went down and this time the pirates did not escape unscathed. One barely missed the Lion. He reached the guards. A spear jabbed towards him. He dodged the hasty thrust and got inside its point, grabbed the shaft and jerked. His greater strength overmatched that of the Jackel holding it, who failed to release it in time. He stumbled forward, eyes and mouth going wide as he began to scream in fear. The point of Pwymarru’s sword drove into the open mouth, splintering teeth from jaws. Blood sprayed, some splattering onto the Lion’s bronze corselet. He jerked his sword to the side, slicing through the Jackel’s jaw. His opponent collapsed to the ground, his death throes quickly over.
The remaining guards joined him moments later. Greatly outnumbered, they had been unable to offer effective resistance, though a pirate did join them in death during the final clash of pitiless bronze. The attackers quickly dispatched the wounded defenders along with the male servants and older children on their knees vainly pleading for their lives. There was no room for male captives in their ships.
Pwymarru looked around hastily. Some of the girls from the procession ran shrieking in terror from the complex, scattering like a flock of partridge set upon by hawks. The flight of the wellborn girls was hampered by their long skirts. The fleeing slave girls did better in their short tunics. In either case that prey would not get far. One or two pirates were in pursuit of each and of the donkeys with their precious cargos. As a girl was caught up, a yank on her long hair or a spear thrust between her legs sent her tumbling to the ground. Before she could get up a pair of knees was in her back and a pirate’s weight held her down. He jerked her head up by her hair and a few vicious slaps ended any resistance.
Pwymarru ran for the temple gate. They must get inside before someone thought to close it. The jam was beginning to clear now. Panic grew still greater at the arrival of the Lion bearing bloody sword. He forced his way through, other pirates on his heels. If anything the pandemonium inside the courtyard was even worse. The priestesses, mothers all, were trying to get to their bawling children by the gate or still outside it. Many girls were on their knees, hands lifted towards the heavens beseeching the gods to save them. Others simply stood and screamed mindlessly. The Gazelle who had led the procession was shouting, pointing towards the temple. She ran towards it, some of the girls still following her.
Pwymarru tried to get to them, but was slowed by the seething mass of bodies in the courtyard. The temple door was slammed shut just before he could reach it. He discovered Tenados at his side.
The Leopard nodded towards the door now undoubtedly barred. “What good do they think that will do them?”
“The few that are thinking probably know it won’t do any. But what do you expect them to do? Stand quietly waiting for us to put our ropes on them?”
“Why not? They’ll wear our ropes in the end and this way they risk annoying us and earning a beating.”
Pwymarru could see his comrade’s point. However, he doubted any of the girls would see it. Females tended to be impractical at such times. The girls inside the temple weren’t going anywhere and could wait a bit. He turned his attention back to the scene within the courtyard. Most of the pirates were inside now. Some were already grabbing girls.
“Some of you catch those donkeys; they’ll be loaded with valuables,” he directed. “Separate out the older females and the children, but don’t harm any of them. As for the girls, get them ready and put the ropes on them.”
Tears ran down the weeping captives’ faces, yet none were struggling. Despair was setting in and they were giving themselves up to their destiny. Slavery was a common fate and virtually anyone could fall into it as the gods decreed, especially young females. The palace slave girls were merely changing owners. The wellborn girls had some idea of what to expect, coming from families that held slaves and each having a maid or two of her own. They knew resistance would only earn a severe beating.
They came in for rough treatment anyway. Slaps and blows served as reminders of worse to come should they struggle. The girls’ embroidered skirts and vests were removed with just enough care not to tear valuable garments. For now they were left with their jewelry, their decorated girdles and their diaphanous tunics. However, their tunics were not left intact. Rough hands tore them, in an instant reducing new garments to rags. Sometimes only one breast was exposed and sometimes a girl’s tunic was torn to hang in tatters from her girdle, exposing both. Hems were ripped to show off more of curvaceous legs, sometimes up to the waist so that a girl’s vulva was revealed. Hems were ripped again in the back up to the tail slit, revealing the inner curves of their asses.
Rape did not follow. Their prince had been adamant that he would personally slay anyone who did so and had sworn that all would have his fair chance at a girl according to his station when time allowed. For now time was of the essence—they must be away in their ships before overwhelming pursuit could be mounted against them. So the pirates amused themselves with their captives for a moment or two by fondling them roughly, squeezing a breast until tears welled and the girl thus handled cried out or rubbed her harshly between her legs or rubbed and squeezed her buttocks hard. The treatment also served to further quell any thoughts of rebellion.
Arms were pulled behind backs and pinioned tightly with two or three wraps of ropes around them above the elbow. The pulled back shoulders resulted in breasts being lifted and pushed out, as if the captives were offering them to their captors. Then the girls were forced to their knees in a line, one behind the other. The rope around the arms of the girl in front was tied around the neck of the one behind her, linking them into a coffle. Girls who annoyed their captors by sobbing too loudly earned a hard slap across the face and were ordered to cry more quietly.
Several pirates stood guard over the huddle of older females and children. The donkeys were under control and being tied into strings along with the tastier of the sacrificial animals. With matters well in hand in the courtyard, it was time to deal with those inside the temple.
“Break down the door,” Pwymarru ordered.
Those who bore axes as their secondary weapons attacked the door with a will, eager to get at the pretty plunder within. Splinters flew. However, axes meant for attacking flesh and bone were not the best for attacking wood. There was no doubt that they would break through, yet there would be a delay in doing so.
* * *
Tamaris looked over the sobbing, screaming, terrified girls inside the temple. Only eleven of them had made it inside, including to her surprise Suli. The Hare had been at the back with the rest of the slave girls. She must have reacted almost immediately when the attack came. The Gazelle was gratified to see that Lorasin was calmer than most. As for herself, she was almost as frightened as any of them, but her position would not allow her to show it. As a princess of Azurra she must set an example, even at such a dire time as this. She was grateful that duty gave her a staff she could lean upon now.
“Silence!” she shouted. “SILENCE!”
When the sobs had died down to the point where she could be heard above them, she continued. “It appears Shematti wants a further sacrifice this year in addition to the animals we brought. The gods have turned their faces from us and have fated us to be slaves in a foreign land, serving our captors and serving in their beds.”
There was no point in using words of balm in an attempt to make their fate out to be other than what it was. Their captors would have them away before word of the raid ever reached her father’s city. As if to add emphasis to her words, the sound of axes attacking the doors came to them. Some of the girls sobbed louder at that.
“All we can do now is beseech the gods to grant that our masters be kindly ones and that perhaps someday our families can ransom us.” They would be damaged goods for desirable marriages with their virginities long gone, but families had a duty to protect and succor their members. Family honor was at stake. “Now let us meet our captors with what courage we can muster and show them that girls of Azurra are not cringing cowards.”
Suli had run for the temple at the first onslaught, but not because she thought it would provide any kind of refuge. As a child she had seen what happened when her town was sacked. Brutal rape was almost certainly occurring outside in the courtyard. Better to fall into the marauders’ hands after their initial lusts had been slaked. She had been listening with the rest to the princess. Maybe the words would do the other girls some good. Personally, she thought there was more practical advice to give. “There is more we can do.”
“And what would that be?” Tamaris asked.
“To be good fucks and pleasure our masters well.” She deliberately used the crude term; refinement was not for a slave. “That is what your father and brothers and the guests I was lent to expected when they took me to their beds. They would have punished me severely if I hadn’t been a good fuck. As it was, they only whipped my ass occasionally for amusement and not badly then.”
“Was it so terrible for you being a slave in my father’s palace?”
“Why ask me that now? You didn’t ask it after your father sacked my town and brought me back a child in ropes to be given to his daughter. You didn’t ask it a few years later when your father and brothers decided I was old enough for mounting and began taking me into their beds. Nor did you ask it when you took me to your bed and had me pleasure you.”
“I’m sorry, Suli; was I a bad mistress?”
The Hare shrugged. “Not so much. You didn’t beat me badly and mostly when dissatisfied with my service. Only once was it when you were in a tantrum because your father had refused you a piece of jewelry you desired. That was a bad one, but they could have all been like that. The times you laid the leather across my ass for your amusement were infrequent. Your tongue was in my cunt almost as often as mine was in yours and sometimes you thought of my pleasure. I enjoyed the times in your bed, just as I enjoyed those in the beds of your father and brothers. However, I would have been miserable if I had been the weeping captive, forever lamenting a life lost to me. The gods fated me to be a slave and I made the best of my fate. By doing so, I made a life that was not as bad as many, slave or free.
“Males do not like morose and weeping slave girls. It puts them in a bad mood and guess who pays the price for their ire? A girl who can laugh and takes pleasure in being mounted puts them in a good mood and is treated far better. I suggest you be the latter.”
“Thank you. May your new master treat you well and not beat you often.”
“And may yours be kind as well. Remember, how you are treated depends a great deal upon you. Give him no reason to find fault with you and life will be easier. Now I suggest all of you take off your skirts and vests. They will be stripped from you anyway and if they’re damaged our captors may blame you and punish you. If you can bear it you should remove your tunics as well.”
Tamaris hesitated a moment, then said, “Do as she says.”
She set the example and the other girls followed. Soon the celebrants were dressed solely in their diaphanous under tunics, save for Suli. She had removed her tunic, leaving herself naked. The others could not follow her example. Slave girls often went naked in public. Girls of good families simply did not apart from inside the female quarters of a household. There they might be as bare as a slave girl with only jewelry to set them apart.
The Gazelle went to the door and made to lift the bar holding it shut.
“Tamaris, are you sure?” Lorasin called.
“Nay, but what choice is there? They’ll be through it soon enough and any delay may irritate them and earn us a beating.”
The Fennec came over to help her friend. They exchanged a quick hug and a kiss on the mouth.
“I’ll miss you terribly—it’ll be the worse part of slavery!”
“Perhaps we won’t be separated.”
“Perhaps, but we can’t count on it. May your master be a kind one.”
“And yours.”
The pair of girls lifted the heavy wooden beam barring the door. Another blow thudded into it, knocking it open a crack. The friends stood side-by-side, holding hands. Despair and resignation were setting in, making them oddly calm. Behind them the remaining girls were reacting much the same and tears began dying away. All awaited their fates with what courage they could discover within themselves.
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